Count me in as a Tarantino fan

This post is really about our fabulous Passover seder. Picked up Sarah in Trenton, trekked the long miles home, got a flat tire in Huntingdon Valley, put on my flashers and drag-assed it over to the Texaco station.

Byberry Road is a two-lane highway. Flashers on, I drove 15 mph and stayed in the extreme right. Boy did I piss off the other motorists. They were so impatient they passed me on the two-lane highway w/oncoming cars, yes, in the oncoming lane. Cars honked madly at them but it didn't stop our hurrier-than-thou's. Frigging assholes jeopardizing people's lives.

Fortunately, Scott was able to rescue us. He'd just woken up and came over within 20 minutes to put on the donut tire. Then we drove to his friend's tire place and got a brand-new tire. The old tire had a split in it. Could've been worse, much much worse.

Here's what we had for Passover, as made by Sarah. I put on some nice music by her husband and his band since I just rediscovered it. Ya know how you go thru phases w/listening to music.

Oh, get this! A certain composer, whose name I forget, grew up in California. He's in his forties today and is a regular white dude. Only when he hit age 17 was he introduced to the music of Beethoven. Imagine! You've got your own radio on which all sorts of music is available but it's not till he's a teenager that he hears of Beethoven.

His mind is totally blown away when he hears it. Then he goes and listens to the other great classical composers - Brahms and Bach etc - and that boy is sold! He's gonna devote his life to music and become a composer. And...he does!

Menu:

Brisket of beef smothered in cooking sauce of beer, onion, carrots. Served w/horseradish sauce.

Roasted veggies - asparagus, carrots sliced lengthwise and covered with olive oil

Fresh artichoke hearts with sliced oranges

I am no longer a meat eater, but I gobbled up that brisket to make up for the meat chastity I've lived with for centuries.

Mom made the excruciatingly delicious desserts including her potato starch sponge cake. I had three pieces, avoiding the horrible fake-tasting Cool Whip, which sat on my plate like a discarded bandage.

After the company left, my sister Donna, Sarah and I watched Inglorious Basterds. "This is my masterpiece" was the last line of the film.

We saw what the hullaballoo was all about. Great flick! Donna slept thru major portions of it, I slept thru minor portions of it. Sarah couldn't figger out how we could sleep thru such a great movie.

When you get older, I explained patiently to her, you can sleep thru anything.

Today Scott and I watched Pulp Fiction. Dyou believe I've never seen it before. Oh my god, they all die. Amazing. Quentin loves his guns. Great acting by Samuel Jackson, I think's his name. He believes the Lord spared him: Divine intervention, he calls it and has to explain the meaning of that term to John Travolta.

Great scenes of snorting drugs and shooting heroin. You feel like you're right there in the room. That's Tarantino for you. You can get away with shooting heroin into your veins and beating people to death, if you can stand to watch, and not get in any trouble for it.

And you laff! That's what he does. He makes you laff at all this terrible stuff. Can you imagine a movie about Nazis persecuting the Jews and shooting em dead thru the floorboards and you sit there and laff at the little jokes in the film?

Count me in. I'm a fan of Tarantino now. My son was right. He's a great filmmaker!